Tactical Errors
by VirtualFaerie
Summary: Luna gets transferred to the Tactics department of the Ministry and teamed up with Ron. Shippiness abounds.


**A/N: **My first chaptered Ron/Luna. Well…actually, it isn't all R/L, there's going to be other ships in here too – something else I've never really done before. So this is a fic of firsts so to speak. Heh. Got working on it because ECRPotter said he wanted a chaptered Ron/Luna, I'm not sure if this is what he wanted…but I did it anyways!

Thanks a bunch to **Twilight** and **Nic** for beta-ing for me. *loffs* Ya'll are a bunch of help.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything that's already copyrighted to the lovely JK Rowling!

**Tactical Errors**

Chapter One

_By VirtualFaerie_

--

_Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breath out. Breathe in, breath out._

Ron Weasley repeated his mantra in his head several times over, fingers rubbing against his temples in slow circles, his eyes shut tight. He was leaned forward in his chair with his elbows resting on his desk. 

He had just come from a meeting.

He hated meetings.

He also hated the fact that Hermione was a bushy-brained know-it-all that always had to be right. She always had to make him look stupid and idiotic in front of everyone at their meetings; more than once had she thrown his plans straight down the drain, much to his chagrin. She was even worse than she had ever been at school, her knowledge now fueled with a Muggle college education that she wouldn't let anyone forget she had.

He sighed loudly and opened his eyes, staring at the plain wooden door of his office. Well, it wasn't exactly his office; he was supposed to be sharing. He looked over at the empty desk that was sitting on the opposite side of the small office facing his. His new partner was supposed to be arriving later today.

He hoped that he wasn't still in a bad mood when they got here. He didn't want to make a bad impression, especially since he would probably be working with this person for a very long time. He had just recently taken a full time position at the Ministry of Magic as an Investigator of Tactics. Ron owed his job to his well-honed chess skills - if it weren't for them, he wouldn't have a job doing anything. He wasn't good at anything in particular. They probably just stuck him in this department because they couldn't figure out where else to put him.

Deciding that he was sufficiently calmer, he pulled his chair up closer to his desk and re-inked his quill, studying the blue print in front of him.

--

Ginny bustled down the long corridor with a box full of papers. The papers were piled up so high that they came up to right under her eyes, obscuring her vision quite a bit, but she wasn't one to complain, as jobs were hard to come by since the aftermath of the war. When she had landed this job as a Researcher of Dark Objects, she couldn't have been happier.

"Oof," Ginny tripped over a bag on the floor and was sent catapulting forward, box and all. The box was pitched forward and promptly burst open, sending papers fluttering about in all directions over the hallway. She laid still on the floor for a moment, trying to catch her breath back that had been knocked out of her on impact.

"Oops, I'm sorry," said a vague voice above her. Ginny cracked open her eyes and turned her head to the side, taking in a monstrous blue bag covered in equally monstrous golden tassels. She rolled over, wincing at the pain that seemed to be coming from her left elbow, and sat up, looking at the bag's owner.

She smiled instantly, scrambling up from the floor as fast as she could. "LUNA!" she said excitedly, launching herself at the much taller woman.

Luna smiled back, her already large eyes somehow widening further. She wrapped her arms around Ginny and hugged her back. "I haven't seen you in a long time," she said.

"Oh wow," said Ginny, stepping back to take a good look at Luna. "It really has been too long, you look so…so grown up!"

"You too," said Luna.

"So what have you been up to?" Ginny asked as she bent down to start picking up all the papers that had flown out of her box. Luna crouched down beside her to help.

"Well, I just got back from a trip with daddy. We got to go on a Crumple Horned Snorkack hunt," Luna said dreamily.

Ginny turned her box over and sat a stack of papers in it. "Oh?" she said interestedly. "Did you find any?"

Luna frowned and dumped her stack of papers in the box. "No," she said rather sadly. "Daddy said they probably fled to Canada because of the war."

"Ah," said Ginny with an amused grin, then it practically dropped off of her face. "How…how were you during the war?"

"Well, I worked with the Department of Magical Beast Cooperation, so it wasn't too bad. I didn't have to get involved with any of the actual fighting," said Luna slowly. 

Ginny furrowed her eyebrows. "What are you doing on this side of the Ministry then? Isn't that department down in the west wing?"

"Mmmhmm," Luna murmured. "But I've been moved to a partner as an Investigator of Tactics. Apparently they liked the way I planned things in my old department."

"That's nice. Oh! Ron works in that department!" said Ginny, collecting up the last bits of paper and putting them in the box. She stood up and pushed her fingers under the bottom and hefted it back up. "Maybe you'll be working with him," she said in a strained voice. "I'm really sorry to run off on you, but I'm supposed to be getting this papers to Finch-Fletchly."

Luna waved a hand. "It's nothing. I'm just waiting for my keys. See you around?"

"Yes, owl me sometime," said Ginny, ambling back down the hallway, box teetering precariously in her arms.

The door behind Luna swung open and a small portly looking man stepped out with a brass key. "Here you are, Miss Lovegood. Your office should be over about two halls to the left, somewhere in the middle."

--

Ron's quill snapped in-between his fingers and black ink sprayed all over his clean white shirt. He sat there for a moment and stared angrily at the oozing mess in his fingers, trying not to scream.

These plans were killing him. How was he supposed to figure out how to stop a breach into the Edmond & Spellman Law Offices if they weren't even willing to give him adequate floor plans and locations of security posts? It was infuriating. The Ministry never should have offered to help private businesses like this.

Ron took his hand and scrubbed all the ink off onto the blue print, then sat back with a satisfied smile.

There was a soft knock at the door and the sound of a key being placed into the lock. "_Crap_," he said, pulling his wand out of his desk drawer and spelling the blue print clean before the person could enter his office. The only other person he knew with a key was his boss, Mr. Gladden, and it wouldn't have done him any good for his boss to come in and see the mess he made.

The lock clicked and the door opened, revealing a tall blonde whose clothes were…interesting, to say in the least. She was wearing a bright orange shirt that proclaimed her a fan of the Chudley Cannons (one point in Ron's Book-O-Goodness), a ruffled black skirt, and a pair of red high-heels. And also a pair of highly familiar radish earrings.

Ron blinked. There wasn't much else he could do, really, as a woman dressed most curiously had just walked into his office and words seemed to be evading him at the moment.

The woman gave him a misty smile. "Hello," she said vaguely. "You must be my partner."

"Er," Ron stood up quickly and shoved his hand at her awkwardly. "Hello." She took his hand and shook it lightly before letting go to survey the office. He blinked again as she plopped her bag down on top of her desk, tassels flopping around wildly.

"I'm Ron Weasley," he offered hesitantly.

"Oh I know," she said, not turning to look at him.

_She knew_? Ron thought worriedly. "Well…what's your name?"

"They didn't tell you?"

"No."

"Oh, well, I'm Luna Lovegood."

_Figures_, thought Ron, taking in her appearance again. "Oh," he said dully. "I thought you looked familiar."

She smiled hazily and plopped down behind her desk, bouncing around in her chair a bit before frowning. "This chair doesn't have much cushioning," she stated.

"We aren't exactly in a high rolling department," said Ron, voice thick from her bouncing. That was certainly something he wouldn't be able to work around all day. Strike that. If she did it again, he would never, ever be able to concentrate.

"I'll bring an extra cushion from home," she said, getting up and patting the seat once more for good measure. "Maybe a blue one to match in here?"

_Since when does she care about matching?_ Ron thought, thinking about her choice of clothing again. He didn't think he would ever be able to get over that. Now that he looked at her again, he noticed that her nails were painted lime green and had randomly scattered orange polka-dots on them.

"Uh, yeah, blue sounds good," said Ron, sitting back down in his chair, pulling out a new quill from his desk. 

"Would you like me to bring you one?" Luna asked, moving towards her bag, pulling out an assortment of pens that she lined up in some semblance of order across her desk.

"No, that's alright," he said. "I'm just going to go back to work now. I'll let you get settled in."

She shrugged and started pulling out various miniature items from her bag, setting them on her desk in a line. She restored them to their normal size with a flick of her wand when she was finished, producingseveral exotic and scary looking potted plants, a Christmas table runner, a pumpkin mug, framed pictures, what looked like a spare pair of panty hose, a black shoe, and a My Little Unicorn snow globe.

Ron blinked again.

She crammed her pens into the mug and smoothed the Christmas table runner across the top of her desk, setting the mug, snow globe, and pictures on top. Then she placed the potted plants in various places on her side of the office.

"What are you going to do with that shoe?" Ron burst out. He hadn't been able to help himself.

She looked at him dreamily. "It's for if I lose one."

"Oh, right." Ron wondered how it was that she could make that sound as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. People did not go around loosing one shoe daily, but the way she said it made him think otherwise…about her at least.

She smiled. "Gotta be prepared." 

--

Ginny was muttering to herself under her breath, having to heave up her heavy box as she continued down to the other end of the Ministry building. It was absurd the amount of grunt work she'd had to do since she started here, and it was even more absurd that no one seemed to care.

She had dropped her box again not too long ago, and not a single person stopped to help her. In fact, she was sure that she had heard two women that walked by giggle at her!

"Oof!" she said for the second time that day, the bottom edge of the box hitting against her stomach forcefully. At least this time she maintained her grip on the box, albeit awkwardly.

The person on the other side of the box swore loudly and Ginny smelled fresh coffee.

"Why can't you look where you're going!?!" the person shouted. Ginny tilted her face up for a better view above the box. Draco Malfoy was holding an empty mug at his side limply, staring at her angrily, coffee splattered all over him. She was sure she even saw some dripping from his hair.

"Well," Ginny said evenly. "I can't exactly see over this box."

"Then why the hell are you carrying it?" demanded Draco.

"It's my job to carry this box," said Ginny sullenly.

"Ah, I see," said Draco, a smirk spreading across his lips. "The Ministry finally realized that the Weasleys were too low on the social scale to be given _real_ jobs."

"I'm surprised they would even consider giving you a job after what you did," muttered Ginny, glaring at him.

The smirk stayed on his face. "And what exactly did I do?" he asked slowly.

"You were a death eater! And everyone knows it!" Ginny erupted, nearly dropping her box.

"Is that so?" said Draco silkily. "Then why was it never proven? Had I been a death eater, I would be in Azkaban with the rest of the lot, now wouldn't I?" 

Ginny glowered. "I don't know why they let you off, but they were obviously off their rockers at the time."

"Is that the best you can come up with, Weasley?" sneered Draco. "I don't have time for your infantile insults. I have _real work_ to do for my _real job_." Draco pushed past her and continued down the hall, leaving a fuming Ginny behind.

"Git," she spat, and went along her way.

--

Hermione sat in the cafeteria of the Ministry, pieces of parchment scattered out in front of her; she realized with a start her sandwich had been tragically lost under the mess and would probably be missing for many years to come. She crossed her legs and looked at the papers thoughtfully.

"What do you think, Harry?" she asked, flipping over a few pages. When he didn't respond, Hermione looked up at him and smiled amusedly. "Harry," she said louder.

His eyes snapped open and he looked at her hazily. "What's that?" he asked groggily, reaching under his glasses to rub at his eyes.

"I asked you what you thought."

"About what?" asked Harry, confusedly.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again, looking at Harry tiredly. "Nothing," she said quietly, going back to her papers.

Harry frowned. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just that I was up late again last night, so I'm sleepy."

"Are you having those nightmares again?" Hermione asked worriedly, reaching a hand out across the table, resting it on Harry's arm. 

"Yeah," said Harry. "I can hardly sleep."

"It's over, Harry," Hermione said soothingly, rubbing her hand against his arm. "You don't have to worry about him anymore."

"I know, I know," Harry said dully. "It's just not something I can easily forget, you know?"

"Of course you can't just forget it," said Hermione. "But you shouldn't worry about it anymore. It's not your responsibility to save the world anymore. Now you can be Just Harry."

Harry laughed weakly. "There's no way that I can ever be Just Harry. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, remember?" he said, a bitter tone creeping up into his voice.

Hermione looked at him sadly. "Lighten up, Harry. The war is over. You can be who you want to be."

"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I didn't mean to… It's just that these dreams always seem so real. They're…frightening."

Hermione patted his arm and sat back. "I know, Harry, I know. The best thing that I think we can do is to get you busy and involved in something." She paused, then wiggled her eyebrows. "Maybe a girlfriend?" 

Harry snorted. "That's just what I need."

"Okay, okay," said Hermione, smiling. "Maybe you should quit hanging around me and go try out for a Quidditch team. Merlin knows you could make it."

Harry grinned. "Yeah, that would be nice."

"I'll go with you when you try out."

"Thanks," Harry said with a warm smile, reaching over to gently squeeze her hand. Hermione smiled back and returned the gesture before turning back to her work.

**A/N: **First chapter! I hope you liked it, I'm trying to put all


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